


End of the Rainbow

by YaminoTenshi202



Series: Grá mo chroí [1]
Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Adventure, Comic: The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, Eventual Romance, Eventual betrayal, F/M, Incest, Pansexual Goldie O'Gilt, Pansexual Scrooge McDuck, Sexual Content, Time Skips, canon fusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-12-26 21:56:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: Down below in Dawson, there were surely hens and drakes pairing off with one another, enjoying their debauchery as Scrooge busied himself in his Klondike cabin.Set about 100 years before Anam Cara





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hard to edit tags on mobile; will return to fix it later

Goldie had closed the door behind her, breathing in deeply. She stood with her back to the door, watching as the drake in front of the window started his pattern again. Smooth, long strokes and then ten short, rough thrusts into the tightness of his fist; that eventually started having the effect it needed.

Scrooge panted at the rocking motion that he imagined. His hands were rubbing, teasing his own flesh with unskilled fingers. A thirty-year-old drake, and all he had experience in was self-pleasure in the darkest, loneliest of places.

Down below in Dawson, there were surely hens and drakes pairing off with one another, enjoying their debauchery as Scrooge busied himself in his Klondike cabin. With only the melting snow in his hands to allow some slickness, hardly warming on his fingers, Scrooge pleasured himself. Closing his eyes, he continued on, trying to reach that-

A creaking sound filled the air, Scrooge opening his eyes to see that one of the raccoons that came to sleep at his feet. He groaned, pushing the raccoon away with his foot.

The moon stared down at him, spying on his activities. Scrooge closed his eyes and rearranged his blanket, hissing as the rough cloth added more sensitivity to his aching problem. In an act of impulse, Scrooge spit into his palm, groaning at the new slickness. He was close, close, close…

The heat of spend on his hand almost made him get hard again. Scrooge took in slow, deep breaths as he looked to the window of his cabin. He swore as he turned to hide under his blankets.

Inside lay asleep a guest that he had taken as his own, a prisoner that he was molding and teaching in the best of ways, or at least he hoped.

Scrooge closed his eyes and thought of the Ice Flame of Dawson. He thought of Goldie O’Gilt’s beautiful eyes, her fiery words. He wanted desperately for her eyes to gaze upon him with the adoration that she had held for the Plains of White Agony, the sunlight on the trees and slowly thawing land. He wanted her to look upon him in the way that she laid her eyes on gold. He wanted…

He wanted the touch of another on his skin and the love of another in his heart, the same way that his father and mother… 

Scrooge groaned, trying to sleep and forget the idea that his mother was long dead, dead and his family without any means of work aside from his own earnings. 

* * *

Goldie let her tongue free when all became silent outside. She opened her eyes after several breath-taking moments, quietly moving upon the painful bedframe to peek outside the window.

Scrooge lay in the small rack where his equipment was kept, over which lay an untamed fleece that gave some comfort but not nearly enough. How he even reached a climax was impossible to think, but Goldie had been listening, and she now watched him as he slept. 

She knew that someone was now outside, but she did not contain herself. She had grown wet, and blessed be whatever force had made her a hen, she was finding it easy pleasure herself. Her fingers had grown moist and slick, warm and hot. She teased herself and even dared to bend far enough to thrust into her body, shuddering at each quick, harsh movement.

She closed her eyes and felt herself grow even wetter at the image in her mind. Goldie’s fingers had gained callous and roughness. They were a gold-miner’s hands, just like Scrooge’s hands. She imagined him touching her entrance, possibly (likely) never having touched a hen before. His curious fingers would play with her, jumping at the slightest bit of uncertainty, but Scrooge would make way when she would give any sign of approval. Goldie could only imagine him inside of her, filling her and spreading her in the most lovely of ways.

Goldie felt tears in her eyes, burning and itching as she imagined. Her pleasure was mounting, filling her head. She imagined them staying here in the Plains, building a home, not having her whore herself to the men in Dawson. No matter their muscles and greedy hands that would touch her everywhere, Goldie wanted Scrooge to tease her kindly, innocently. He was surely as untouched as the icicles that were hanging off of the edge of the roof.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goldie has been working for Scrooge for 1 month for attempting to steal his Goose Egg Nugget. It's been a long month.

“Goldie, rest a while,” Scrooge told his gold-finding partner. As Goldie dropped her pickaxe and wiped at her forehead, hoping to move away the sweat from its path to her sensitive eyes, Scrooge could see some mosquitoes floating around her. He stretched and moved to get the insect repellent from its container.

“Scrooge, I hear the bugs-”

“Here’s some repellent, Goldie.”

Goldie groaned. Some of her sweat was stinging her eyes, the salt burning and making her eyes water.

“You idiot! Just put some on my forehead before I sweat all of it off and I’m eaten alive!”

Scrooge sighed, dipping his hand in the container. He bent forward slightly to touch her forehead. She was scarcely shorter than he, and…

Goldie shuddered when he touched her skin, but he obeyed her order and spread the oily mix onto her feathers. After a few moments, Goldie lifted her face from her torn, ragged skirt. Scrooge touched her cheekbones, hardly but still freckled from the forest sun. 

What he would give to see her blush…

“Scrooge?” Bright blue-green eyes stared at him, Scrooge jumping back.

“Here,” he said, holding out the warped container. Goldie nodded, reaching to grab some from the container before reaching for Scrooge’s free and messy hand instead.

“No need to waste,” she said as explanation. She sighed, bending backwards.

“You old sourdough… Ugh, when can we eat?”

“When the sun goes down.”

“Scrooge!” Goldie’s eyes were keen and deadly, and she screamed, “We’ve been digging since the morning.”

“We had a late start this morning,” Scrooge explained. “Keep digging, ma’am, or you don’t get any supper!”

“But I’m starving now,” Goldie griped. She held out her dress, showing how stained it was and yelling about how tattered it was.

“You can buy a new dress when you get back to town,” he appeased, reassuring her that she would be paid for the work that she did do. That had been the reason for bringing Gold here in the first place, to teach her how to make her money square rather than stealing a man’s good work. 

“I… I never realized how hard this work is.”

“Oh?” Scrooge smiled. “Starting to learn your lesson?”

“Lesson? Yes!” Goldie crossed her arm, smirking. “Knowing how tired you stupid sourdoughs are will make it even easier to steal their gold!”

“Oh, shut up and get more water!”

Watching her walk away, Scrooge felt his heart heave. Goldie’s heart loved gold, more than it would ever love him. She was cruel and greedy, her bright eyes seeking out her next bit of gold. She was... 

He was making Goldie just like him. She no longer looked to the mountains or forest with such innocent, pure joy that she had initially. Goldie’s beautiful turquoise eyes were alert for any fleck of gold that they would find. Her gaze into White Agony Plains was not wistful nor in awe but depressed and longing.

Scrooge found himself looking at a lonely fireweed. It was a small and beautiful thing, a pink blossom that was so pale in comparison to the others. When he had first seen the flowers of the Yukon, he had wanted to press some and take them to Hortense and Matilda. He had done that with his letters when he had been in Utah, Colorado, the Dakotas… When had he stopped caring about it?

When... 

He missed his mother.

“Hey! Here’s the damn water! What are you staring at?”

The shock made Scrooge’s heart race, his pulse picking up and his body immediately moved to shame.

“Looking for more paydirt! Gimme that bucket!”

“Ugh… You’re just like the rest of those greedy miners! Just put your head in that bucket and take a deep breath!” Goldie looked around, huffing.

“What were you even…” She spotted where he had been looking on the ground. A little fireweed was perking up.

She had heard Molly, one of the dancing girls in the Blackjack Ballroom that she had employed, talking about the fireweed flowers once. They were the first to come up after any forest fire. Molly had called Goldie a rare breed of fireweed once, for the way that Goldie had jumped her way into become a proprietor of a booming business of entertaining. For visitors of her shows, Goldie was the Star of the North, the Ice Queen of Dawson, and in more private venues, she was the Golden Fireweed.

Had Scrooge heard of that?

Now, she had other things to worry about. She was a business woman! Goldie’s business would grow and grow, outgrowing Dawson itself. She had once taken a peek at where Scrooge would hide the strongbox with his claim deed. Scrooge would gaze at the folded paper like it was the aurora itself.

“...’am. Miss Goldie, ma’am!”

Goldie lifted her head from where she had been gazing at the little bloom and saw a couple of men in suits. They looked mighty official…

“We’re here to rescue you,” they whispered. “Just sneak over this way!”

Rescue? But how would she get the strongbox?

Goldie ran straight to Scrooge.

“Get in the cabin and lock the door, Goldie! I’ll take care of this.” Goldie obeyed, spying the look of fire in her partner’s eyes. This would be her chance, as Scrooge ran to protect the claim, and her, to get that locked box.

That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t enjoy the show. Scrooge was walloping all three of the men that had come to supposedly rescue her. One person ended up in the shaft of the drift for their paydirt and the other were unconscious quickly before that.

She shivered in delight as she made her way to the woodbin.

“That idiot…” Goldie smiled and felt her heart pumping, though certainly not from the display of strength outside. The wetness between her legs was just from the smell of gold that was in the strongbox that she had just dug out from the firewood. The woodbin was cold and airy, just like when Scrooge had taken to sleeping outside when she had professed fear of the animals that were out more often due to the springtime.

Goldie closed her eyes as she took a breath of free air. Free air! She would get to Dawson much faster than Scrooge could. He’d be tired from that fight, she knew, just like when he had saved her from that bear on the first day of indentured servitude. She wouldn’t feel… feel sorry… Not at all!

“Oh look!” Goldie felt her stomach drop to the bedrock as a hand slapped itself over her mouth, closing her beak. “Lovely Goldie here brought it right to us!”

She didn’t recognize them, but the two men that had captured her had the vision of gold fever on their faces. The man not holding her quickly took a stone and broke open the strongbox.

There was the folded paper, a rolled paper, and the Goose Egg gold nugget that had tempted Goldie in the first place.

“The Goose Egg Nugget and a hostage! What a lucky day!”

Goldie felt herself shifted under her captor’s arm, beak still held closed. She closed her eyes, fear cooling her blood as one of his fingers touched her jawline. She thought of her life, of her gold, and of the miner that she had been with for one month…

It had only been a month.

Why did it feel like an eternity and a moment missed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy right now. Duck-fic writing is so cathartic and I love it. This series has built itself without me paying note.

“Hey! You’re Scrooge McDuck!”

“Who?” another of the men - judges and lawmen, apparently - asked.

Scrooge held back the urge to slap himself.

“The Buckaroo of the Badlands! I met you last year on my way to Nome last year! Look, I have last month’s issue of Wyatt Earp’s dime novel.”

Scrooge took a glance at the picture and he only wished that someone else had been a bit… more faithful to his true image, though he wouldn’t mind having a Storkulean body as the one depicted.

“Hey, look on the back.”

“Aren’t those the Wild Bunch?” Scrooge asked. “Why are you all turning white in the face?”

“We hired two guides to bring us here. That was them!”

“And there they go!”

All four men turned and saw a sled heading back towards Dawson. The man that had been so obstinate to not believe who Scrooge was took out a pair of opera glasses and confirmed their faces.

“They’ve got Miss Goldie and a strongbox!”

Scrooge felt a pain in his soul, worse than he had ever felt. With a bound, he grabbed two pickaxes and ran for his life.

… To save his life.

* * *

“You cowards! You’re lucky Scrooge didn’t spot you! He’d tear you to ribbons!”

“Really? A scrawny miner like that?”

Goldie shuddered as the wind ruffled her feathers. The sled dogs had been so kind to her, sitting quietly by her as they surrounded her and kept her warm before they had all gotten on the dogsled. Butch Cassidy hadn’t fed them, she saw, and she knew that they would be starved more once they cashed in on the Goose Egg Nugget.

A stomping filled her ears. She had never noticed until now how sharp her ears had become. Goldie turned her head, and she felt a smile split across her face.

“There he is! Over that glacier!”

“I-I ain’t never seen a man ride a buck! Let alone hook axes on two sets of antlers and ride like that!”

Goldie laughed. “He’s coming to save me! The both of you are as good as dead!”

“We’ve gotta cross the frozen river!” The Sundance Kid had shot too many bullets and now he had ruined the glacier’s peace. “It’s our only hope!

Goldie didn’t care. She was patient. Scrooge was coming, just for her. She could see him with the caribou, sliding down on a large slab of ice. The force of their crossing sent her off of the sled.

“What? Where…”

“Butch, I lost the strongbox!”

“The deed! The Nugget!” Goldie stood herself upright. She couldn’t lose them! Not now! She began to jump from ice slab to slab.

“Almost… Gotcha!” Goldie hugged the box to her chest, panting heavily. This… This almost felt like too much excitement for one day. The water was rapid and there was a roaring… Was… Was that a damn waterfall?

“No… No. No!” Goldie could see the treetops. The sky and mountains were as beautiful as the day she arrived, and now they’d be the last thing she’d see. The sky couldn’t compare, not with the blue she had seen. Scrooge’s eyes… She wanted to see them again. If only she… If only he… Would he forgive her? Would he? Please forgive her, forgive her. Couldn’t he just come to see her crying? Forgive-

“Goldie!”

Goldie was turned around and she saw that blue again!

“Scrooge… Scrooge!”

He held her, strong arms about her waist as the cariboux jumped from ice slab to ice slab, pulling them by the ropes around Scrooge’s waist. He must have gotten them from the Wild Bunch’s sled. As they passed the sled, Scrooge cut the ropes for the dogs. The dogs jumped on the cariboux’ antlers, safe from the icy waters.

On dry land, Goldie watched Scrooge help the dogs down from the caribous. She held the box and tried to calm down from such an adventure.

“Goldie? Are you alright?”

“I knew you’d come, Scrooge! I knew it!”

Scrooge’s eyes widened. His fingers buried themselves in the caribou’s pelt.

“You did? Why?”

… Her face wasn’t flushing. It wasn’t!

“Because you’d do anything to get your damn strongbox back!”

Scrooge grunted as he had the box shoved into his ribs.

“Right… I have my… my most valued possession in here...” Scrooge looked like he was in love with the box, Goldie’s stomach churning with nausea.

“Forget it, Scrooge! We have to get to the claim! Those meddlers are probably waiting to finish the fight. I hope they tie you into knots, you little shit!”

The ride back was quiet, and Goldie felt herself grow more tired as they moved along.

“Maybe we’ll go back to Dawson tomorrow. I think you’ve seen how rough a miner’s life can be.”

Goldie rolled her eyes and looked down at the strongbox.

“G’wan inside, Goldie.” Scrooge let out a yawn himself, mentioning something about making dinner.

Lighting a candle, Goldie watched carefully as Scrooge set the box down and excusing himself to go out to relieve himself. His eyes were so clouded over, unfocused.

The strongbox…

It was hers.

It was hers! Right here in front of her! Her fingers gripped the metal box, lifting the lid.

The Goose Egg Nugget glistened at her, winking with delight in the candlelight. The Nugget had been found here, on this claim, and now the deed to the claim was hers… She lifted the folded paper, the one that Scrooge would stare at… Wait.

Wasn’t the deed embellished with Dawson’s seal? The one on the rolled parchment? Was the other one… A will! An inheritance?!?! A bond? Stocks?! Goldie could hardly resist ripping the folded paper apart. First in excitement, and then… in frustration.

“... What the fuck?”

Goldie stared at the ribbon and lock of hair there.

“A stupid lock of hair?” That ribbon…

That… It was one of her own…

“Goldie?”

She looked up.

Blue and turquoise met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Wild Bunch: In the Don Rosa comics, Goldie is kidnapped by the Wild Bunch, who were bank and train robbers. Here, it is just Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Harry Longabaugh.
> 
> **This is where the Don Rosa Comics will converge with the Ducktales 2017 backstory for Glittering Goldie O'Gilt.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is all Duck porn, and I'm not ashamed.

Scrooge only saw her with his strongbox. … Why did this hurt so badly? Goldie had always loved gold. He had met her because of this. He had brought her here because of it!

“What are you doing with that, Goldie?”

She placed whatever was in her hand back in the strongbox, closing it. Goldie turned back to him, setting the box on the table.

“I was just checking that your things were still there, Scrooge.” She gave him a small smile and moved to the bed frame, sitting on the side. Scrooge kept his eyes on her as he walked to the box. He lifted the lid and saw everything inside, as he had had in there before.

He looked to the folded paper, where he had such a prize…

“Do you want some coffee, Scrooge? I’m sure I can make it so you don’t have to use a pick as a stirrer.”

Scrooge looked to the stove. It had gone out while they were gone.

“Why? So you can drug me again?”

Goldie’s face became pale and red so quickly that Scrooge couldn’t keep up.

“You stupid, ungrateful, handsome, brave, no-good polecat!” Goldie grabbed the lapels of his coat. “It’s time I showed you just what I think of you!”

Scrooge shivered as Goldie pressed their beaks together. She was so close to him. He could smell her natural scent underneath the repellent. She had some freckles underneath the feathers on her cheeks… Goldie was-

He cursed as he fell backwards next to their only bag of flour. Scrooge could still feel Goldie’s fist in his chest.

“What do you think of that, Scrooge?”

Scrooge stood, his blood boiling, until he took a good look at Goldie. Her hair was a mess, her dress all in tatters, and she looked sadder than he had ever seen her. Tears were dancing in her eyes.

“Goldie… don't cry.”

“You're an idiot, Scrooge!” She gripped at her hair, the already unkempt hair now curling around her face from the humidity of this spring night. She cried, “I was frightened when the Wild Bunch took me, that they might… And then you- You came like you actually cared about me! You even have a lock of my hair in that damn strongbox, and you still judge me at every turn.”

Goldie turned away, wiping at her face.

“If you don’t care about me at all, take me back to Dawson! Leave me at the Ballroom and just never speak to me again!”

Scrooge stared up at her. What was he supposed to do?

Scrooge, you dope, he was scolding himself. Do _something_!

Goldie still had her back turned to him as he stood up, bounding over to her and holding her to his chest. She trembled slightly, but Scrooge didn’t want to let go. Her body was warm, her skirts and bodice wet from the river, waterfall, and her own sweat. He imagined that her tears were scalding in comparison.

“Scrooge? Let go-!”

“No... Just... Let me hold you, for a moment.”

Goldie froze in place, her hands coming to grab at his forearms but not bothering to push him away. The cabin air was lit up with the wet heat of longing, Goldie leaning back against Scrooge. He couldn't stop himself from smelling her hair. Smelling of dirt, sweat, the Klondike waters, and of Goldie herself, her blonde hair that had haunted him since the day he brought Goldie here…Scrooge pressed a kiss just behind her ear, beak nuzzling her limp curls.

“Goldie… I care about you so. I-” Scrooge sighed, trying to catch his breath. He whispered in her ear, “I've never felt this way about anyone, Goldie.”

A giggle escaped her.

“What? Are you making fun of me?” Scrooge asked, feeling himself smile. Her giggle had a lightness to it.

“No… It makes me feel special, to know that you think of me like I think of you.” Goldie lifted one of her hands to rest it behind her, on the side of his face.

“Do you know how I dreamt about you, Scrooge? Did you dream of me?”

“Uh… Erm…”

Goldie scoffed, turning around to face him but never leaving his embrace. She kissed him again, and Scrooge was sure that his face was on fire now.

“I heard you last night.”

The Scottish drake paused for a moment before recalling his activities last night, Goldie continuing on.

“Did you think of me touching you? Stroking you, Scroogey? Or were you thinking of touching me? Fucking me? Was I on top? Maybe you were pounding me on to the dirt? Was my tail up, my knees and hands on the ground while you fucked me from behind? Was I yours, Scrooge?”

In a flash between vision and blindness, all of passion, Scrooge saw Goldie's hair whip about her face, and their beaks were together again. She was threading her fingers in his hair and feathers, pulling him towards her. She tasted of sweat and the sweet wind of White Agony Plains. She tasted of gold itself, and the jolt of metal between them, on their tongues, had Scrooge struggling to remain calm enough to not go wild in her grasp.

Scrooge turned them around enough to pick her up. She let out a gasp and then a laugh as he sat her on the table.

“You’ve never done this, Scrooge?”

“You’ve seen those greedy miners down in Dawson. It’s not hard to imagine some things,” Scrooge confessed, “though, it never really occurred to me before this month began to think of a woman that way.”

“Never a woman?” Goldie teased, grabbing Scrooge’s hands and bringing them to the back of her dress. As they both worked to moving off the fabric, Goldie asked, “What about a man?”

“There aren’t many women in the Western United States, it seems like,” Scrooge confessed, following Goldie’s lead and beginning to press kisses to her collar as he helped her undo the back of her dress, “but maybe it was because of where I was. I wouldn’t oppose to touching a man back then, or now.”

“I know. There’s something about someone with the same… Ngh! Same parts as you,” Goldie droned on, letting Scrooge get onto the table to crawl over her. Her back was on the wooden table, Scrooge having moved everything as he climbed to her. The smoothness was a delightful contrast to the life that she’d been living for a month. “You know how to please them, and they know how to please you.”

“You’ll show me how to please you, Goldie?” Scrooge asked, as though they were not here but out in the wilderness, Goldie talking about the flora and fauna of the Yukon. “You’ll show me how to make you scream, cry, and shout out all those dirty words you love to use?”

“Like you don’t like them, you tightwad!”

Scrooge smiled, kissing her jaw. Goldie let her head fall back, Scrooge kissing down her neck. He noticed himself catching movements that Goldie was making. The shivering. The small moans. The gasps that changed if he went somewhere she found pleasurable, like the center of her chest, or uncomfortable, like her sides, just below her ribs.

“Y-You’ve never-” Goldie shuddered, tangling her fingers in his feathers and pulling away, just to muss up the feathers, “You’ve never done this?”

“No,” Scrooge reaffirmed, “but… Maybe I have a talent.”

“Don’t get too cocky now, darling. Follow my lead,” Goldie cooed, grabbing Scrooge’s hand and bringing it between her legs. He watched as she pleasured herself with his hand, using him as she liked and getting him wet with her body’s wetness. She was shivering and moaning, whispering his name.

“Scrooge… put your fingers… One at a time.”

Scrooge obeyed, bringing his other hand to where she had ordered him to. A finger inside of her, Goldie’s body fluttered about. More slickness escaped her, giving a sharp smell of Goldie to the air. He paid attention to her cues, following as she began to ask for a second finger, and then begged for the third.

“Oh, God… Scrooge, more!”

“... How-”

“Think about it- Oh, my God, right there!”

Scrooge looked down, watching his fingers pump in and out of Goldie’s tight body. He contemplated for just a moment before smirking to himself. His hand slowed down, achingly slow from how Goldie began to whine.

“You sound like the brat that you are, Goldie.”

“Oh, fuck-” Goldie arched her back, eyes blown open as she felt Scrooge’s fist slide into her. He was still for a moment, watching her as she adjusted to the size difference. She was pulsing around him, wet and hot.

“What do you want, Goldie?”

“Please… Please!” Goldie started to thrust her hips against his hand, his fist slipping deeper inside. Scrooge was enamored with the image, his cock throbbing in desire. He was up to his wrist inside of her, squirming and shivering. He pressed lightly, pulling and pushing as gently as he could while pulling his other hand away. Scrooge took his now free hand and stroked himself, moaning as he used Goldie’s wetness to prepare himself.

“What do you want, Goldie?” he teased.

“I want you inside of me, Scrooge! Just thrust yourself into me!” Goldie’s eyes were watery, dazed as she stared up at Scrooge. He nodded, kissing her sweetly as he pulled his fist out of her, gently.

“Don’t worry, love,” he assured her, kneeling between her legs and pressing himself to her entrance. Goldie pulled him down, pressing their heads together. Their eyes locked. Scrooge smiled and she did the same. “I’ll take care of you, Goldie.”

She was hot, hot and wet. Scrooge had never felt something so pleasurably slick before. He thought of what he and Goldie were talking about before. Perhaps a man would feel hotter, coarser. When he came back to reality, he was already rutting against Goldie, the beauty underneath him writhing and urging him on.

“Harder, Scrooge!”

He listened, pressing himself to the backs of her thighs and thrusting as hard as he could in and out of Goldie. She was crying out his name, yelling and shrieking for all that Scrooge could give her. Scrooge bit at her neck, repeating the act as she moaned and praised.

“Goldie, my Goldie…”

“Scrooge, I love you so…” Goldie’s chest was heaving, one of her hands wandering to his arse. She pulled him tighter, the friction of being grabbed making Scrooge shiver with delight. He almost lost himself, pulling at Goldie so that she was speared by his cock, over and over again.

“Goldie… Nn… Are you-”

The tightness, the heat; everything was drowning him in pleasure as Goldie’s body began to spasm around him, hot and tight. Her eyes were somewhere far away and her body seemed to have the most beautiful of convulsions. She was a statuette that could never be replicated, if only in the purest of gold so that Scrooge may treasure her forever.

He felt himself spill into her, a wave of pleasure that blinded him, bowled him over onto Goldie’s chest. He managed to stop himself before he landed on top of her, but she raised her hands - her gloriously calloused hands - to cradle him against her bosom. Scrooge felt safe there, waiting for the waves of pleasure to leave him, able to walk upon the Earth again.

“Oh, Scroogey…”

“Goldie, my Goldie…”

They soon went to bed, Scrooge managing to make the bed-frame just a bit more comfortable.

It was mid-day, the next day, by the time that Scrooge and Goldie walked hand-in-hand to Dawson, ready to raise up their claim anew.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. School and life have gotten crazy.

“Mr. McDuck, thank you for the new stove in the office!” Scrooge nodded to his worker and headed back to his private office, ready to go through the claims that had been made today. It had been six months since he and Goldie had returned to Dawson, and he had begun his business to process claims. Now, with the few workers that he had hired, they could process more claims quickly and efficiently.

He would still go out to White Agony Plains, going through his claim and still going through paydirt. There was something about the outdoors that still called to him, made him claustrophobic in town. Right now, he was processing his pay from the most recent share of gold that he had dug up, adding another sizeable amount to his small fortune.

About 30 minutes into his counting, a knock came at his door.

“Who is it?”

“Who do you want to see, Scrooge?”

Scrooge’s heart began to sprint slightly. That voice had scorched his soul, burned him into his purpose, to get the riches he needed to possess the castle in Dismal Downs and to never have his family suffer in the face of poverty again. It had screwed him into his fit in existence, to exist for  _ her _ .

“Come in, Goldie.”

The lovely Ice Queen of Dawson came in with a smile on her face. Her feathers were smooth, glistening with the energy of a young hen. Her dress, gilded and shining, was a rather modest one, compared to what Scrooge had seen her wear before. Her bosom was actually covered somewhat, and her skirt covered her ankles, though not dragging itself across the floor. Her eyes - Lord, her eyes - were keen, excited for whatever else laid in her wake. They were ravenous eyes that wanted and wanted. At the moment, Scrooge couldn’t figure out what she wanted aside from her soul’s wanting - more gold.

“Hello, dear,” she cooed to him, closing the door behind her. Goldie floated across the floor, well into Scrooge’s arms. She pressed kisses to his cheeks and batted her eyes playfully at him.

“Hello, Goldie.” Scrooge placed his pen down and embraced her warmly. Never did he think that he would have had something so lovely in his arms, nothing more precious than that Goose Egg Nugget, but here he had love in his arms.

“We had more dancers apply today. I’m not dancing anymore,” Goldie informed him. It had never bothered Scrooge. On the contrary, if she enjoyed dancing for other men, then who was Scrooge to stop her when she always came back to him? His own parents had had a strange relationship, his father having his younger brother Gideon with another hen. Gideon had been born when Scrooge had been twenty, and his mother was so happy to mention Gideon and loved to take care of another duckling with a hen just so lovely that Scrooge had often heard of Gideon's mother in his own mother's letters…

“Are you thinking of your mother again?” Goldie pressed a kiss to his temple. She had left an abusive home at a young age. Hearing about how kind Downy McDuck had been had created a revival for want of a mother's warmth that Goldie hadn't felt in years, but she never teased Scrooge about such a grave thing.

“I was thinking about our relationship, and that of my parents.”

“Why? Not as traditional as theirs?”

“Well, they're not as traditional either.” Scrooge shrugged and went over the records of their coffers, instead saying, “I’ve passed 50 million, finally.”

“I’m proud of you, Scrooge,” Goldie whispered, kissing his temple again before delivering a few more kisses to a sensitive spot under Scrooge’s jaw.

“... I need more. It has been difficult just to maintain my business here and to make sure that my family is getting what they need back in Dismal Downs…”

“And?”

“... Is it bad to say that I’m getting bored?”

“What, is Dawson getting boring for you? Or am I boring you?”

Scrooge practically crushed Goldie against his chest, kissing her with such a furosity that Goldie was breathless and had her pulling away so that she could breathe. Soon, he pulled her back, kissing her neck and by her collarbone. He whispered lovely things to her, about her beauty and warmth. Then those words became those regarding her strength, tenacity, and eventually her adventurous nature. That brought a heat to Goldie’s groin, one that Scrooge could feel when she ground herself against his thigh.

“Come here, darling,” he cooed to her. Goldie jumped off his lap, following him to a locked room where she knew that his most precious things were stored. Goldie had seen him put his strongbox in there, with the claim of White Agony Plains, the Goose Egg Nugget, and the lock of her hair.

Inside the storeroom, Goldie cheered. There were some piles of stock papers, bags full of things that Scrooge surely had taken account for, but in some bins and bags, Goldie could see the shine of metal. There were containers of gold, pure and lovely as her hair. As she admired it, Scrooge closed the door behind them, moving to kiss the back of her neck.

“Scroogey, there’s so much here!”

“Aye, do you like it?”

Goldie turned in his arms, kissing him and pushing him until his back hit the door. They were both thankful for the thickness of the doors and walls for the more private office where Scrooge kept his business. She even pulled him upwards, lifting him in her arms. 

She carried him to the floor, where bags of small bags of gold dust and bags of small gold nuggets lay. Scrooge whimpered as she lay him down somewhat roughly, tugging at his trousers.

“Scroogey, Scroogey, I have something for you. It’ll be fun!”

He nodded, guiding her to straddle his thighs. “Then come on, lovely. Show me.”

In a bag inside her purse, Goldie pulled out a small box. She showed him the object inside, which left him flushing.

“So that’s why you asked if I had listened t’ your… unique request over the phone.”

“I have the rubbers, but I like protecting both of our-” Goldie smirked down at him, “-assets, love.”

He took the offered pleasure toy in his mouth, covering it in saliva as Goldie covered her own fingers in her drool. Oh, she wanted to see Scrooge scream underneath her, surrounded by gold and fucking his hips up into her. The idea made her grow wetter with every passing second.

“So pretty,” she whispered to him. When Goldie pulled out the toy from his mouth, she brought it down to his hole, already prepared as she had asked.

Scrooge groaned at the friction as the fake cock went into him. It was nothing like Goldie's fingers or his own, nothing dextrous. However, it stretched him in a way that he hadn't enjoyed in years, burning and filling him beautifully. Goldie grabbed the small handle at its base and pushed it in as deep as it could go. Scrooge cursed under his breath, feeling that toy rub against a spot inside of him that had him suffocating and gasping every time it was rubbed in just the right way.

Soon, Goldie reached down to stretch herself with her spit-wet hand, trying to remain as coherent as possible. She touched every part of herself, stroking and caressing all of her sweet parts. Scrooge raised a shaky hand, touching her as well. Goldie had to let go of the toy inside of Scrooge, making him whine. She was struggling to keep her voice down, dizzy with pleasure.

“My Goldie… So beautiful, so wet…”

“Scroogey, I need you… Inside now…”

Goldie let Scrooge move her downward on his body, so that her hips were right above his cock. He teased her slightly, resting his tip against her entrance. She let out a keening that had her throw her hands up to her beak. With that, Scrooge lowered her down, moaning her name from deep in his chest. Goldie let herself fall on his chest, letting him control their motions.

His hips rolled upwards, Goldie sighing. They were hip to hip, Scrooge nestled deep inside of her. Goldie’s warmth was as beautiful as the first time that Scrooge had ever experienced it. It was different, with the rubber between them, but it was Goldie.

That toy inside of him was the extension of her, thrusting herself deeper inside of him. Soon, they were moaning desperately, just to feel each other mold to their shapes and feel each other’s heat. He was burning inside of her, and she was wrapped up in his inflaming love. The world disappeared in the face of their affection, hours passing as the sun sank below the horizon.

* * *

When they got ready to leave the office that evening, their workers had already been gone for a half hour. Goldie and Scrooge, a pleasant pain in the base of their spines, walked towards the small home that they had here in Dawson. They had packed some provisions - currency, maps, and books that Scrooge had gotten of atlas and languages - from the office and were setting to make a plan for adventure.

“Didn’t know you’d be wanting such a plan, my dear.”

“I like your stories, Scroogey. I’ll be banjaxed before I listen to another that doesn’t have me in it.” Goldie nuzzled his cheek with her beak, pressing a kiss that was almost a greeting now. Scrooge laughed, tickled by her gentle touch.

“Well, I’ve heard of a treasure in Mongolia, in talk and in my readings that I’ve packed for our journey. Have you heard of the Lost Crown of Genghis Khan?”

Goldie shook her head, cuddling into his side.

“No, but I’m excited! Mongolia… Whatever we find there, Scroogey, I’ll have you with me,” Goldie cooed. “Imagine what else we’ll find.”


End file.
